


Guidance

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demon Castiel, F/M, Human Meg, Priest Kink, reverse verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel watched her the whole time, the way she seemed to stutter when she caught his gaze, hand lifted to her mouth, the way she licked the pad of his thumb when he gave her communion, the way she held his eyes over the Bible when their gazes were supposed to be downturned in prayer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guidance

Castiel finished lining up the row of buttons on his cassock as he watched himself in the small mirror. The silver backing was cracked and the reflection it gave was warped, but priests did not need such material possessions that were to aid one’s vanity, it was ungodly. Though it was useful to have a mirror in the priest’s quarters behind the narthex of the cathedral, there was only the one, old and hardly useful at all. He smoothed down his dark hair, parted just so, and arranged the rosary that hung over his chest, smiling and gathering himself before the services for the day.

It wasn’t easy, or pain free, for a demon to inhabit the role of a priest. It was for the good of the cause however, and Castiel had to admit that he enjoyed the challenge. He was powerful enough that the burn of holy water or the cross constantly around his throat didn’t incapacitate him. He could recite all the latin prayers, bless the eucharist, give confession with utmost sincerity. It was why he was chosen for the post, as one of Lucifer’s favored one’s of old. Lucifer had been confined for some time now. And it would be centuries until he rose again. But Castiel was a patient demon.

He had been one of the first to side with Lucifer, to fall for him, plummeting to the earth on faith for a brother over faith for a father, and fighting beside him in vicious battles, bloody and weary, but Castiel was a soldier and one of the best.

He couldn’t accept his father’s dogma, orders of obeisance without reason or explanation. He couldn’t accept that his father would create something to be loved and cherished above himself. Castiel had listened to his brothers words when their fathered couldn’t be bothered to listen, and he had followed.

It was chaos at first, of course, it was destruction and recreation and the establishment of a new world order. But eventually Lucifer’s followers were all routed and cast out, and he himself was locked away in a cage, to wile away the years till scripture could be fulfilled.

Castiel found it ironic, that their father could proclaim free will for man kind when he had already planned their entire future.

There were key players of course, humans to be courted and won over to their side, artifacts to be gathered, cities to construct that would provide safe haven on earth for hell’s spawn. The final battle that was foretold between Lucifer and Michael was centuries away, but Lucifer’s army was already diligently at work. And Castiel was but a cog in the machine.

-

Meg buttoned up the high collar of her stiff and plain pink dress. She was barely just a sixteen year old lass, and her mother still fondly pinned her hair back and talked of the boys in the village and taught her how to sew with the pretty pink clothes. She had been a good Catholic girl for her entire sixteen years of existence, but she felt as though she were suffocating.

It was Sunday again, and time for mass. They attended church three times during the week, but Sunday was usually the longest and most boring of the sermons, made extra dull for those parishioners that attended only once a week. She hated Sunday’s.

Except, that Father Castiel was the priest who gave Sunday’s mass.

Unlike the old men, bloated and wane, father Castiel was young. He had a certain vigor to him, even though his face was always placid, his demeanor calm. Perhaps it was in his eyes, or the way his fingers curled around the fine parchment of his well worn Bible. Meg was vaguely aware of what the warmth between her legs meant when she saw father Castiel, but she knew if it was what she suspected, that it was something to be saved for marriage, for a man who would provide. And father Castiel, though he was a man of the cloth, even if the priests participated in illicit activities that were all the rage of gossip circles, they were respected members of the community and no blame was to fall on them.

She was but a simple girl, a young lamb, innocent and ignorant to the sins of the flesh. There was no reason for her to blush at father Castiel’s gaze, or heat when his fingers lingered on her lips at communion.

No reason at all.

-

She was wearing pink this week, something soft and feminine. For the few times that he’d said more than a passing word to her, Castiel wondered if her parents had made her wear it. He wanted to rip it open and ruin it utterly, just like he wanted to do to her.

Sunday mass was a boring affair, as all masses were, but longer with the community information and messages they spouted after the scripture. It was only a small town, but tight knit. Castiel watched her the whole time, the way she seemed to stutter when she caught his gaze, hand lifted to her mouth, the way she licked the pad of his thumb when he gave her communion, the way she held his eyes over the Bible when their gazes were supposed to be downturned in prayer.

After the service, shaking the hands of all in attendance and giving words of advise, comfort, faith, Castiel convinced her parents that he had a particular text that would be of interest to her in the back. They trusted him, of course they did, they all trusted a priest which was why it was a perfect cover despite how uncomfortable it could be. But it wasn’t without it’s perks. Meg raised an eyebrow at him in silent question, but played along with his ruse, expressing her interest in holy scripture and being pleased at how privileged she was that their priest was so willing to giving freely of his time to her. He was a very giving Father, very understanding.

The door to his private office clicked behind him when Castiel stalked towards Meg, muscles tense for a fight and wondering how much opposition she might offer. They wanted her below, but not yet, they wanted her broken and willing. He could give that to them, he could serve her up and he would enjoy it.

She was a sweet little thing, soft body and lush curled hair, blush high on her cheeks and lips curling up in a nervous smile. She attempted conversation with him, banter and anxious curiosity, but Castiel pushed into her space until she was backed against the thick oak desk and leaning back onto her arms braced there while he pushed a thigh between her legs.

Both still clothed, still challenging and testing the waters, they stood slotted against one another until she twitched her hips down against him, just the smallest gesture, but the moan from her pretty lips was low and breathy.

Castiel gripped her hips and pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together and pushing his thigh up harder against her, dipping forward to lick against her lips and swallow her confused groan. She needn’t ask, he would show her what she needed. So that he would have what he needed.

Meg cried out in blasphemy, and he only pulled back to flip her over, pushing the sweet girl down against the hard desk and kicking her legs apart. Her parents waited in the pews praying, he would not dare ruin her dress at this point, but as he shoved it up her wide thighs Castiel gripped the plain white panties she wore and tore them apart. There was fine soft hair along her thighs and curls between her legs, lips swelling pink and wet, while she jerked back towards him then forwards as though she couldn’t determine quite where she wanted to go.

Castiel pulled her hips back, sliding in the slick between her legs while he pressed along her back and nudged at her neck, whispering filth in her ear and promising her all the things she could want, all the things he could give her if she only were to give him her soul.

It was such a small thing to humans after all wasn’t it, a soul, something they often disregarded and never could seem to understand for all their supposed intellect. Just a soul. A small price to pay for fulfillment, for power, for the promise of eternity.

Castiel held her down and thrust into her, tight and searing hot, while she bit against her wrist holding back her sounds, back rolling up against him and knees bent to rock with the motion of it.

His cassock was lifted in the front, fanning along her lower back and draping over both of them, a heavy hot material but time was short and he would give her enough of satisfaction to be pleased while not enough she wouldn’t need to come back for more. Fucking into her fast and vicious, fingers twisted in her hair and breath against the curve of her neck, Castiel waited to feel the clench of her muscles around him before he released into her.

Grinding against her, smiling to himself, he barely remembered to collect himself enough that his black eyes were blue again and he could pull his cassock down over his legs before she was twisting around, still sagging against the desk, fingers trembling along the hem of her dress where she re-arranged it.

He told her to come see him again whenever she needed guidance.


End file.
